


The Barcelona Bean

by IncandescentAntelope



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Barista!Viktor, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Chubby Katsuki Yuuri, Coffee Shops, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Songfic, Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, musician!yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 23:28:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16418078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncandescentAntelope/pseuds/IncandescentAntelope
Summary: In the low, soft light of a sleepy 24-hour coffee shop, two wandering souls fell in love over mutual distance and words left unsaid, the musician and the barista.





	The Barcelona Bean

**Author's Note:**

> I marked beginnings of songs with asterisks! (the fic definitely doesn't match up to the length of the songs, I don't know how _real_ songficcers do that magic)
> 
> Here's a YouTube [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLMDPEX1g1Df3kwwBjHm_cbullDITzVUGM) with the songs Yuuri sings! <3
> 
>  **Yuuri's setlist**  
>  Give Me Love (Ed Sheeran)  
> Chasing Cars (Sleeping at Last's cover of Snow Patrol's song)  
> Falling in Love in a Coffee Shop (Landon Pigg)  
> The Words (Christina Perri)

Nights were long and lonely in The Barcelona Bean, especially on weeknights. But someone had to work the graveyard shift. And that someone was Viktor. His life had recently become much brighter, thanks to the lovely (and shy) musician too timid to play in front of crowds. Yuuri played a short set between two and three in the morning on Tuesdays. It was undeniably Viktor’s favorite hour of the week, though Yuuri usually stayed a little while longer to enjoy a cup of tea and easy conversation.

His voice light and sweet, it washed over the Russian like the gentle waves of spring. They had fallen into the comfortable pattern of catching and avoiding each other’s eyes, of subtly hinting at their feelings with Yuuri’s song choices and silly little notes written on napkins under his tea cup or dropped in his guitar case when he wasn’t looking. It had been so long for both of them, love a distant point on the horizon. Lonely ships passing in the wee hours of morning.

Viktor couldn’t for the life of him build the courage to ask Yuuri for his number, and Yuuri nearly fainted at the mere _idea_ of approaching Viktor with his feelings without a guitar between them. So they danced around each other in a careful circle, always keeping a hand on the wall. It had been six months, and twin hearts were beginning to ache with the weight of distance.

Yuuri felt that he was hardly on the same playing field as the chiseled Adonis brewing himself a cappuccino. Yuuri’s body still clung to his poor choices from freshman year, chub hanging onto his belly, hips, cheeks and thighs. But the way he caught the man watching him… it made him feel loved. Special. Sought after. Even with the softness of his body. 

Viktor thought there was no possible way Yuuri would be interested in someone so hopelessly forgetful. He had to make little notes to remember the things Yuuri liked, when he should just be able to _fucking_ remember that he took honey in his tea instead of cane syrup, or that his sister’s name was Mari, and he was a senior at Wayne State. But even with notes scrawled on his forearms and the palms of his hands, Viktor couldn’t stop himself from falling deeper. Yuuri was magnetic. He pulled Viktor in without trying. Just his presence drew him in. 

Snow had begun to gently flutter to the ground, fairy lights strung along the ceiling, faux tea light candles flickering in glass bowls on each table. Everything was soft, everything was warm. Christmas was just around the corner and both of them could feel the sentimentality lingering in the air between them. The shop was completely empty, save for Viktor and Yuuri. Both had opted for sweaters that night, in the chill of Detroit winter. 

Yuuri’s was a soft blue, matching the shade of his glasses. A long scoop-neck exposed his creamy neck and collarbones. Viktor’s own was a pale turquoise, cable-knit turtleneck clinging to his shoulders and chest. It brought out the color of his eyes. His black apron tied around his waist, his stash of stirrers and pens tucked in the pockets. He was wiping the counter down, clearing away the stickiness of sugar and cream from the earlier shifts. 

Yuuri was tuning his guitar, preparing for another concert for no one but Viktor. Tonight was going to be a special one. He hoped that Viktor would see through his setlist. That he would be able to read between the lines after so long. He swallowed thickly.

Yuuri forwent the stool, preferring to sit cross-legged on the ratty Persian rug Viktor had found at Goodwill. The polished gleam of his acoustic guitar matched the dark ebony of his hair, reflecting the soft lamplight and the occasional passing car.

“Yuuri, do you mind if I sit with you tonight? I don’t have anything to do.” Viktor asked as the Japanese tuned his high E.

“Y-yeah, that’s fine. It’s a little weird when you just lean over the counter anyway.” Yuuri laughed quietly. Viktor balked at the biteless insult.

“Weird? How rude. I’m just doing my job.” Viktor pouted as he set Yuuri’s tea on the stage in front of him, avoiding his setlist, written in his first language, the boxy characters reminded Viktor distantly of Cyrillic. “So, what’s on the list for tonight?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Viktor never tired of hearing that. Yuuri always told him it was a surprise. Viktor settled on the stage to Yuuri’s right, legs hanging off the edge, swinging them like a child, not restricting the small smile that crept across his cheeks as Yuuri cleared his throat and cracked his knuckles.

He let the first strum* resonate off the exposed brick of the shop, a warm and clear harmony of notes. His voice joined the sound, light and still shaky, but that would even out as he moved through the short list.

_Give me love like her_

_Because lately I’ve been waking up alone_

Viktor’s eyes fluttered shut, losing himself in the quiet lull of his fingers against the strings, imagining those fingers drifting over his skin. What kind of melody would Yuuri sing with Viktor’s touch? What sound would pass those lovely lips if he could only dance his fingertips across a warm, blushed cheek, the soft curves of his hips, or running fingernails through raven hair, scratching lines down the expanse of his back in the heat of the moment? The thoughts carried him through Yuuri’s first song, soft and heartbreakingly vulnerable.

_All I want is the taste that your lips allow_

_My, my, give me love_

The last notes faded and Viktor gave his usual snaps, like a poetry slam. Yuuri laughed at it every time. They had insisted that clapping was too loud a gesture for such a sleepy hour as two in the morning. _‘I’ll snap then. You’re a kind of poet, anyway.’_ Viktor had said, pulling a warm flush to Yuuri’s cheeks. He had never really considered himself a poet. But he liked that Viktor called him one. 

“Thank you, thank you.” Yuuri waved his hands at the invisible audience and Viktor laughed again, the heart-shaped smile split his beautiful face. Yuuri would never tire of the little wrinkles that appeared around the corners of Viktor’s eyes when he smiled that smile. He sipped his tea, loving the subtle notes of jasmine and the sweetness of the honey. Viktor always surprised him with delicious and unexpected combinations of flavors, but tonight he had made him the tea he had expressly said was his favorite. He smiled against the rim of the cup as he took another sip and set it back down on the saucer.

He began the next song*, a simple finger-picked melody ringing from his guitar. He easily lost himself in the slow, repeated sequence of notes. He heard the violins from the video in the back of his mind, a duplicate of his own voice singing the harmony behind him. 

_I don't quite know_

_How to say_

_How I feel_

And it was true. Every time he tried to open his mouth without the melody of a song on his lips, he choked. He couldn’t bring the words out. It frustrated him to no end, the panic and fear that gripped him every time he tried to speak his heart. But the music… provided a barrier. If things got messy, if Viktor didn't feel the same... he could shrug it off as ‘just a song’. 

Viktor felt the words deep in his soul. He didn’t know how to say it either. He couldn’t possibly begin to describe his thoughts with enough clarity to make any semblance of sense. It was all just a jumbled mess of affection and attraction and the urge to love him, to fall into his arms and to listen to him play his guitar and sing for the rest of his life. He felt inextricably drawn to Yuuri, like an external force was pushing them together. He felt warm when he was with the man, swimming in his chocolate brown eyes as they focused on the pattern of his dancing fingers. 

_If I lay here_

_If I just lay here_

_Would you lie with me and just forget the world?_

Viktor followed the lyrics, laying back on the stage, eyes open and watching the slow blinking of the fire alarm above them. Pulsing and red. It reminded him a little bit of his heart. Dim and tired, but still beating. Distant, but aching to be made useful. Just waiting to unleash everything it had saved up. He was so lonely, his hands and bed so cold for so long. He watched Yuuri from behind, the tensing in his shoulder and bicep as he strummed. His body made music too. 

Yuuri repeated the last chorus and let the melody die on his lips again. Viktor snapped quietly. He didn’t turn around or sit up. He just sighed softly and began the next song*, one Viktor recognized. It had been playing on the shop's playlist for a few weeks, despite its release date crawling toward ten years. He bit his tongue to not sing along. He didn't want to scare Yuuri away with his tone-deafness. 

Yuuri knew the song was a bit on the nose, and that he should probably just pack up and never play the shop again if Viktor didn’t pick up the hint. 

_I think that possibly, maybe I'm falling for you_

Quick, gentle fingers strummed over the strings, his left hand sliding up and down the neck with the wandering riff. His voice wobbled a little on the lower notes. 

_If I didn't know you, I'd rather not know_

_If I couldn't have you, I'd rather be alone_

The song left absolutely nothing unsaid. Viktor sat up slowly, sinking into the sweet falsetto of Yuuri’s voice as he sang. He understood. He was calling for Viktor. The songs were his way of reaching out. His heart throbbed as he floated on the gentle melody, mellow and saccharine. Viktor tumbled further and further into the bottomless pit of his love for the man.

_I never knew just what it was_

_About this old coffee shop I love so much_

_All of the while I never knew_

_All of the while, all of the while it was you_

The last notes rang out, Viktor didn’t snap out of his lovestruck daze fast enough for snaps. Yuuri didn’t give him any time.

Yuuri turned from the shop, facing Viktor directly. His heart thundered in his chest as he began the last song*, holding eye contact with the blue-greens so beautifully highlighted by the soft shade of his sweater, the distant candlelight flickering in the darkness of his pupils. 

Viktor knew this song too. 

Yuuri’s cheeks flushed when Viktor turned to mirror his posture. Legs crossed, hands held in one another, absently rubbing his knuckles. Yuuri wanted to hold those hands. He wanted to kiss those fingers. He closed his eyes and imagined the glint of gold wrapped around one of them. And a matching one around his. 

The melody washed over Viktor in waves. He knew what it was building to. 

Yuuri’s voice shook when the melody dipped almost too low for his range. 

_I promise the truth can’t hurt us now_

_So let the words slip out of your mouth_

He let the last line of the chorus ring for an extra measure. He prayed Viktor understood. This was his confession. The things he was too afraid to say. The things that only made sense in his head when he sang them, when he had strings beneath his fingers and a melody in his mouth. He had no intention of finishing the song. Just the end of the second verse. He picked a gentle interlude and tried to slow his breathing. His heart was racing. He could feel the neck of his guitar becoming slick with the sweat of his hands. His voice shook on the first few notes, evening out again. His fingers slowed the tempo as he approached it.

_But I wouldn't trade a day for the chance to say_

_My love, I'm in love with you_

His voice broke with the confession. His fingers stopped moving, the last note resolving in the empty shop. He blinked away the beginnings of tears, gripping tightly at his throat.

“Yuuri?” Viktor asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Viktor?” Yuuri returned, choked.

“I’m in love with you too.” He whispered.

Yuuri’s fear melted away like the snow. He set his guitar down in its case and leaned forward, catching Viktor’s lips in his. The kiss was sweet and lingering, unhurried. He fell into the soft contact like quicksand. Viktor took Yuuri’s face in his hands, the soft roundness of his cheeks filling and warming his flesh in a way so sweet it filled his heart to overflowing. Yuuri sighed into the kiss, opening his mouth gently against Viktor’s. Viktor ran the tip of his tongue across Yuuri’s bottom lip gently, a small request to deepen the kiss. Yuuri surged forward, Viktor gasped at the sudden movement. Hands tangled in silver and black hair, panting breaths and heaving chests. 

It felt right. The pull they had both been feeling under their skin was quieting, the ache of words unsaid easing for the first time in months. 

They broke the kiss when the gentle tinkling of the bell interrupted them, Viktor springing up and greeting the customer cheerfully, despite his disheveled hair and flushed cheeks. Yuuri took a moment to catch his breath. He had finally done it. He had finally told him. And kissed the single most attractive man he’d ever met.

The man ordered his coffee to go, clearly uncomfortable with the scene he’d walked into. (But to be fair, it was three in the morning on a Tuesday and the shop was usually dead.) Viktor made the coffee and the man went on his merry way. Viktor looked up at Yuuri from across the shop and laughed, full and from the belly. Yuuri laughed too, crossing the floor to sit at the counter. 

“God, what took us so long?” Yuuri asked.

“I don’t know.” Viktor laughed, a single tear rolled unbidden down an alabaster cheek. It sparkled in the twinkling fairy lights like liquid gold. Yuuri leaned forward gently with his left hand, reaching to wipe away the tear. Viktor’s hand captured his as it rested against his cheek. He pressed it to his skin, finally feeling the touch he’d been craving. The roughness of his calloused fingertips, the warm heat of his palm. Viktor pulled his hand away and kissed each one of his digits, saying a silent _‘thank you’_ for being Yuuri’s vessel, the way for him to speak. He would work tirelessly to pull Yuuri away from his fear, to speak without worry.

Yuuri’s heart swelled to near bursting. 

“But I’m so glad that you laid it bare for me with your music, Yuuri.” Viktor said sweetly, laying one last kiss at Yuuri’s wrist. 

“Give me your hand.” Yuuri said quietly, extending an expectant hand over the counter. Viktor looked confused and momentarily panicked. _Shit. He had notes written on his forearm._ “Please?” Yuuri added after a beat of silence passed. He just wanted to be cute and write his number on his hand.

Viktor sighed and dropped his left hand into Yuuri’s outstretched right, the cuff of his sweater pulling up and showing the now-smeared ink of his most recent note.

_‘Katsuki Yuuri likes the color blue.’_

He had scrawled it in the bathroom that night after seeing Yuuri wear a different blue sweater five weeks in a row. And his glasses were blue. And so was his guitar case. And all of his picks. 

“What’s this, Viktor?” 

“I- um, I’m kind of… forgetful. So I make little notes so I won’t forget important things.” Viktor stammered, embarrassed. Yuuri smiled so wide it split his face nearly in half. His favorite color was important.

“That’s really cute, Viktor. Do you have more right now?” 

Viktor sighed, praying that this wasn’t the moment he changed Yuuri’s mind.

“Yes.”

“May I see them?” Viktor couldn’t refuse such a sweet request. And he was still drunk on his kiss. So bad choices be damned, he wanted to bear it all for Yuuri too. He untied his apron and pulled it over his head, laying it on the counter. He checked before he pulled off his sweater too, that he was wearing an undershirt. He would definitely get fired if he revealed himself like that to a customer. He pulled the turquoise sweater over his head too, revealing the scribbled notes on both of his forearms. Yuuri reached over the counter again and pulled Viktor’s arms closer, slowly reading every little note. 

_‘Katsuki Yuuri has a pet poodle at home in Japan.’_  
_‘Katsuki Yuuri likes jasmine in his tea.’_  
_‘Katsuki Yuuri really likes Ed Sheeran.’_  
_‘Katsuki Yuuri is really cute and I want him to date me.’_

Yuuri held out his hand expectantly again. “Pen?”

Viktor dropped his pen into his hand, and Yuuri quickly added two notes of his own. Viktor pulled his arm back and read it slowly. 

_‘Katsuki Yuuri’s phone number is (xxx)-xxx-xxxx’_  
_‘Katsuki Yuuri is available on Friday night.’_

“Same time and place as always?” Viktor mumbled jokingly as he added Yuuri’s number to his contacts and texted him.

“I was thinking maybe not two in the morning, but we can meet here if you’d like.” Yuuri laughed, saving his number and texting him back a string of music and coffee-themed emojis.

“So, uh, your music is pretty good. Are you on SoundCloud or what?” Viktor said in his best dude-bro voice, redonning his sweater and apron. 

Yuuri snorted a laugh. And immediately clapped his hands over his mouth. 

“Nonononono, _that_ ,” Viktor pointed at Yuuri's face, “was fucking adorable. Don’t you dare muffle that noise in front of me again.”

“No promises~” Yuuri waggled his eyebrows, keeping his mouth covered. 

“Yuuuuuuuri, how am I supposed to kiss you with your hands in front of your mouth?” Viktor whined dramatically. Yuuri removed his hands and Viktor leaned over, laying a kiss on his soft lips. 

“I love you, Viktor.” Yuuri whispered when they parted again. 

“I love you too, Yuuri.” Viktor felt warm. And light. And home.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hello there, thank you for reading this! I am weak for coffee shop AUs and I just couldn't get this idea out of my brain.
> 
> I set out to write a slow burn for this idea. I tried. Turns out I am emotionally incapable of writing slow burn. So I just skipped right over all the pining and jumped into confessions. (I'm too weak for that, I don't know how slow burn/build authors do that shit, teach me your secrets)
> 
> Let me know what you think! Leave a lil red heart if you liked it. I hang out in the comments! Say hi!
> 
> ❤️ IA ❤️  
> [Tumblr](https://incandescentantelope.tumblr.com) | [ Twitter](https://twitter.com/IAtheAuthor)


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